If you have been paying attention, you might remember a post from Emma not long ago. I had charged her with buying a deep socket, which we needed for one of our trucks in Alaska. In spite of some unfamiliarity with the vernacular (believe me, Emma, you were not alone in this respect), she managed to acquire said socket and sent it to us on the tundra.
I am happy to report that the package arrived not three days later!
Though postcards to and from our corner of Alaska can take two weeks, apparently the USPS takes Priority Mail seriously, even on the tundra. The only challenge was getting the thing open.
But I did.
It was heavy. Shiny. And undeniably deep.
But the question remained, would it fit?
Here is the truck in question.
Here are the offending lug nuts.
It’s not that we needed the deep socket urgently. None of the tires was flat. But as in all things Alaska, the trick is being prepared when calamity strikes. And calamity almost always does.
For those of you (like Emma and me) new to this dizzying world, for a socket to do any good, it has to be attached to a socket wrench.
Actually, this is a “breaker bar,” a long-handled contrivance that fits into the socket and provides additional leverage for “breaking” the lug nut loose. Our lug nuts live all winter in the unfriendly Alaskan rain and wind. And all spring, summer, and fall. They are rusted fast do not relent easily.
The critical moment arrived. Would the deep socket fit the lug nut? Would it be sufficiently deep to slide over the long bolts holding it in place.
The answer was yes. The socket fit. We correctly identified the size we needed and Emma sent the part requested. It was a minor miracle.
But friends, that’s where this success story ends. No matter how I tried to break the lug nut, I could not get the thing to budge.
The lug nut broke me.
But we had the satisfaction and tentative comfort of knowing that we now have the right tool on hand if, and when, the truck gets a flat.
Thank you Emma. I wish you had been there to take a bow with me.
